By the Light of the Fire
by Serendivinity
Summary: By the light of the fire, she dwells, in darkness her small feet carry her wayward. Myth calls her 'Faye', little is known about her. So many encounters on dark nights leaves a wondering in Bilbo's heart as he learns her story, her past, and leaves this solitary Faye with a new view on the Shire folk she has long since feared.
1. The beginning of the end

**By the Light of the Fire**

Let me begin from the beginning of this tale...

Not all things in the world are as they should be... There is often an explanation for everything, even if the explanation doesn't explain its reason for being, there is a common truth. Mysterious things happen when you mix love and magic. Her being was that of what some might call abomination, but some... Some may call it a blessing. I promise in the end my friends, you will see.

It began with an Elf, beautiful in all essence and wise, gave light to a lost Halfling who became besotted with her. Sprinkled with innocence and the naivety of a love drunk Hobbit when seeking selfish magic, he sought the help of a dark conjurer who created a spell most foul. In a vial of beautiful glass a red passion of liquid slumbered, until Enwe consumed it taking it for a gift from the small admirer as a token of gratitude. Their love was fake, the Halfling knew this, consumed with obsession and shame after many moons; he asked the conjurer to break the spell after but three years. The conjurer agreed, and revealed that within the spell was a counter spell... For once he had undone the first enchantment placed upon her, if the Hobbit were ever to lock eyes with Enwe again, she would die, unbeknownst to the Hobbit he had been tricked by the conjurer to drink a spell under the illusion of good hospitality upon his entrance to break his deal. Played out in the conjurer's mind it had been foreseen what was to be, the eventual death of the Halfling, but one thing slipped the conjurer's radar... In a flash of light the Conjurer disappeared, leaving a lingering laugh of wickedness.

Roaming the lands for many moos, stricken by grief, he one day encountered a white rider, striding down from the north on a horse the colour of fresh snow. His eyes locked onto the blue orbs under the hood. The rider fell from atop of the horse, a heart no longer singing a tune into the cold, misty woods. The hood fell to reveal Enwe, her face pale, her hair as white as the cloak she was wrapped within. Fosco lay on the cold brown earth, sobbing and broken, the mornings frost thick in the air stinging his gaunt face; the presence of death ethereal within his hands, his very small childlike hands that grasped the Elf, the one he loved, the one he abandoned somewhat 10 years ago, not but seconds for her life, but an eternity spent in wondering hell within his mind, doomed to run, and cruel fate had her way with his heart, Enwe was but a small pawn in her plan.

For the conjurer was a greater evil in disguise, a fallen Maiar, graced by the growing presence of evil in the lands of Middle Earth. Fosco ever assumed the conjurer to be of male presence, but as Almasenor, a Witch among the world of magic, she despised Enwe, a beautiful Elf who had enchanted the hearts of many but took the hearts of none, only used her beauty to lead weak heart of men into battle, she thought it a fitting end to her time upon the earth to die a pawn to a lowly Halfling.

Fosco was distraught, he took Enwe's sword and held it to his throat. A small call in the dawns darkness, a cry of a young voice, scared and ever so... small. He threw the sword to the ground in disbelief, for there, riding a small pony, hair in flowing white locks as curly as the waves of the eastern seas, eyes, a piercing hazel green of his own colour, a nose that wasn't sleek like an elf but still framed by a beautiful face, an ever so tiny body, for if she were a pure Elven child, she would be taller than dear Fosco, but she was as small... well as small as a hobbit. Tears streamed from his matching eyes as he watched her, a bewildered look on her face turn from scared to grief. Fosco stood, reaching a hand out towards her.

'Desh'mieve!' she cried out to the god like woman held in Fosco's arms.

His hand reached towards her, laying Enwe on the cold earth, drawing ever closer he tried to speak Elvish but her heart would not listen to his words. Her Pony became startled by his abrupt movement and dashed, taking the child with her. They escaped together through the woods, into the opening, the light of day beaming down on them as they ran. The child cried, her mother had been slain by this creature! The creature with hairy feet, she grew to know as Hobbits - Halflings.

No-one told her what she was. Never through her avid years of hatred and ignorant fear against the Shire folk. For even they did not know, they only had rising suspicion on her maturity. She wanted revenge on Fosco. But that revenge never came. The wondering Hobbit had vanished from all existence, he was never seen from that day again. He had died there in those woods. The moment she bolted the bond that still nursed the thread of his life together had been severed, he had nothing left and took his own life, there lay there forever, turned to the earth with the Elf that he loved so bitterly, clutching to a trinket that his Elf, Enwe, had given him the day his guilt consumed him. A little charm that was engraved with the words in Elvish that could be translated by the word of Hobbit folk to mean Faye. Fairy in the words of men like you and I. A simple silver jewel that had the wings of an insect, a silver heart shaped diamond in the center and laced with Celtic shapes to outline its radiance. It was his Daughters, an offering from the Elves to Enwe as congratulations before they knew, before they banished her from their realms to wonder alone with the child...

Some mysteries of this world are hushed and forgotten. Some things in this world become among legend. We forget what once was and what still is we choose not to perceive as being extraordinary.

We wonder aimlessly in search, as does this solitary Faye. For answers, for belonging and home. For a little thing called... hope.


	2. An Unexpected Intruder

**An Unexpected Intruder**

"Wanderers, no mistake!" the Faye gasped, the discovery of a small campfire that had not long been extinguished had beckoned forth her excitement, surrounded by evidence now against her former finding of tracks. These tracks had been guiding the Faye for days, leading her further and further through the woodlands, and near the mountains, at first she thought it to be animal tracks, a heard of wild horses, but the prints were too clean, too controlled after following their tracks for many a night, the young elf studied the foot marks, of ponies of horses, small men and one larger sized man. One thing in particular striking her interest, there in among the footprints of shoes was that of bare feet. A child? An Orc? No, they were different, somehow, familiar.

A scuttle of cracking sounded behind her and the screech of birds that took off in flight, fleeing from the heightened sense of danger. She darted for her pony, pulling at her reigns. "Off we go Thandriel!" Clicking the heel of her bare feet against the Pony they flew off together through the deeper parts of the woods.

The night settled with a black blanket of dust over the valleys below, the forests were shelter against the bitter sting of wind, but not shelter from the dwellings of dark forces. The Dwarves and company settled under an old elm tree, confident that this was a sufficiently safe place for dwellings until dawn.

The fire raged on, smoke rings in their dozen filled their air from the pipes of complacent creatures; song was a low murmur in the air.

"I've had enough of these 'ere cold nights, keep thinking I'm gonna' have ma' throat cut in ma' sleep!"

'If you carry on whining Gloin, I'll grant you that wish!' Balin grunted, crossing his legs. His back against a large tree shaped like a haggard witch with an arched back.

The two Dwarves bickered back and forth, unaware of the dangers that were about to spring forth, the rest of their company distracted by the raised voices, all but one.

"Be quiet you fools!" The wizard Gandalf summoned their silence. "You'll be the death of all of us."  
It happened in a flash, a pale white pony leaped over the hedges on the wondering bushes, an elf rider atop its back, a worried expression.

"Help me dear Dwarves, I have attracted unwanted company, far too many for me to handle!" with her words, Fili and Kili unsheathed their weapons and stood in front of the pony, guarding its Elven rider.

"No worries Miss!" Kili started.

"We'll protect you!" Fili finished.

Orcs, in their many jumped over the same bushes, others ran around, surprised by what greeted them face to face. The Dwarves readied for a bloody battle. But there was a sinister silence that befell the Orcs, they studied the group of large numbers, small of stature. Measuring them.  
Then... they attacked.

Thorin darted forward, he faced the largest foe and isolated him immediately from the group. Fili and Kili darted after the hasty Orcs. The remaining Dwarves Dwalin, Balin, Oin Gloin, Nori, Ori, Dori, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur put up an amazing fight against the oncoming enemies.

"Stinking Orcs!" Dori exclaimed as he struck down with his sword.

More of these grumbles filled the evening air as the group huddled around their fire, striking down Orcs with a thunderous blow or a quick slash of their swords, spears, axes and hammers. This went on for many a minute.

One smallest member of the group joined in, the beauty of the blue blade lit up the night as it carved into the enemy; her eyes were fixed on this glow and the wielder of such a blade.  
She dismounted her horse, ready with her blade to join in the fight. Swirling with the grace of an elf, no-one noticed her height until the last Orc had been struck down with a heavy roar, Thorin had beheaded the creature that fell to its knees in front of him. The group (bar Thorin) cheered into the night. The Wizard had vanished during the fight to look to the road ahead and review the path behind for a safe place to shelter.

"We are in danger here, grab whatever you can carry and take to the horses." Thorin remarked "Elf" he summoned the newcomers attention. "You may ride with us until we come to the town at the end of this forest. It is but five days from here if we make haste"  
"I have no intention of burdening you with my company at this point, but thank you for the offer" the Elf spoke. There were but hushes whispers all around, eyes staring unintentionally at the girl before them. For no-one had noticed in the heat of battle that this elf was no taller than them, in actual fact, she was smaller.

"Pardon my harsh statement Miss, but you look to old in the face to be an Elven child, but too small to be a full grown elf, may I ask what race are you?" Fili asked with a curious interest.

"I'm a Half-Elf. My mother was of pure Elven bloodline, and my father... well I do not know" It was a lie. The Dwarves bought it without hesitation but a few looked towards a rather hushed Hobbit who was in a small state of silence...

"Pardon me asking too" the young Hobbit spoke up "But what were you doing out of the safety of your people, why are you travelling such a dangerous woods?" His eyes glistened at the Half-Elf, a curious interest she was for many, but Gandalf would know. Where was that old Wizard Bilbo thought to himself.

She stared. A deep intensity had overtaken her attention as she looked at the Hobbit, looking directly at his feet and then back to his face she dismissed him; and diverted her attention back towards the others, telling them of how she came to be in such a position and they greatly sympathized.

"My people had banished me from their clan. It was a high honor to be graced with their presence, but almost a godly possession to have a pure bloodline. I was cast aside for not being a pure breed of elf. My mother was tricked by a foul creature upon my conception. They suspected something upon my birth, but as I grew my size was of mystery to them, as first they thought me to be a deformity, and that would have been a far better grace to be of ill form than ill blood. Ere they cast aside my mother and me to wonder the woodlands. She was murdered many years ago. I wonder these lands myself now, alone, killing Orcs and Goblins to keep the place clear. Seems these lands are teeming with wreaking spirit just lately." Her gaze grew low to the ground. "I have been tracking you guys for days now, I knew you to be no Orcs, but they were on your scent regardless, I apologize for my abrupt entry to your resting, but they were planning on slaying you in your sleep, they have left much devastation in their wake as of late" Her eyes met with all the Dwarves to study their expression.

"Well thank you kindly, I suppose!" Bofur piped up. The Faye's story had settled a level of sorrow over the bunch.

"Lets be on our way, I would like some rest tonight, where has that blasted Wizard blazed off to now?!" Nori offered his thoughts.

The group departed the small opening to venture to the boarder of the forest near a large opening, a meadow.

"Now why do we settle where we see a patch of dry land when we find better dwellings further along! We really should search more for a better resting spot..." Oin complained riding atop his horse before they dismounted their transport.

"Indeed" Bilbo agreed.

"Ere, the girl, you don't think she's like you, do you?" Oin's voice was incredibly hushed as he looked intently at Bilbo. 'If she is she could be just as useful as you, albeit even if Thorin doesn't allow it, he didn't have much of a choice with you my lad!" He slapped Bilbo on the shoulder, laughing heartily with him.

"Well, thank you very much! I'll remember that next time you guys are as loud as thunder and find yourself in a predicament." Bilbo jested as he tied up his pony. "Kili and Fili seem to have taken a shine to her..." he stated in a low murmur, more so to himself than anyone.

"Aye, that they have. They'd take a shine to a Goblin in a dress, this must be a warm welcome to their eyes!" Oin laughed once more and left Bilbo to watch the Dwarves settle, light up a fire and entertain their new guest as he prepared for a night of hopefully peaceful slumber.

"Dear Elf, we haven't yet asked you your name!" Bombur cried, looking at his companions, acknowledging their ignorance to their guest.

"Ainsel... my name is Ainsel"


	3. The Thief and the Fairy

**The thief and the fairy**

It had been a long night. First their fight during the first coming of light, when rogue Goblins had crawled up through the woods after seeing the cinders of the fire. It hadn't been exhausting, but they knew they were advancing on danger. Bilbo had complained relentlessly that his Hobbit hole would offer far more comfort that any slaying of Goblins. They had trekked through the woodlands and into the mouth of hell when the Orcs following an Elven rider had breached their safety net.

His eyes began to drift of, completely unaware of where he was looking, a smile graced his features.

"Don't get too comfortable, Hobbit" Ainsel remarked, knowing his eye was on her.

"Hmnn? But I wasn't..." It was too much effort; he drifted off into the beckoning world of slumber.

Ainsel snorted, poking at the fire absentmindedly with a long stick.

Darkness remained but for a few more hours. The Dwarves didn't rise with the sun that morning, they slumbered until it was time for elevenses, and the vast majority had arisen.

"It is a fine morning my good fellows! Our path is clear, well... for now." Gandalf had returned from the deeper woods, greeting those who were awoke. All those remaining asleep he made sure to hit with his staff swiftly to the stomach to jolt their attention to the waking world. "I see you have further company in my absence. Welcome Ainsel" Clutching his staff he looked down at the green eyes poking out from under the spare sleeping cover. She moved down the cloth to greet him.

"Morning Gandalf, I hope your journey was more pleasant than mine!" Ainsel was happy to see a slightly familiar face.

"Gandalf you know Ainsel?" Asked Fili.

"Indeed! I met her once on my travels through these woods, she alerted me on her passing of Orcs that threatened to upset my peaceful day!" Ainsel got herself up from a lazed comfort to sit on the hard earth, greeted by many confused expressions. Bilbo had now given the conversation his attention as Gandalf had knocked him with the staff especially hard.

"He set off a firework to confuse the Goblins, while their eyes were greedily desiring the sparkles, I carved them in two!" she merrily squeaked. The dwarves let out a cheer and went about finishing the breakfast.

The company had finished their breakfast, and various snacks in multiples, gathered their belongings and compiled everything into the ponies' saddlebags. It was a merry morning indeed. The dwarves hummed songs about their mountains, Gandalf and Bilbo blew smoke rings in contempt and Ainsel followed on, unsure of what a band of Dwarves, a Wizard and a Hobbit were doing on the other side of the mountains in the dangerous woods, but she shrugged it off, for now she was happy for the small level of companionship until she reached the ends of the woodland. She didn't want to tell them that she had been in those woods for almost 40 years, roaming the lands, backwards and forwards. Once she reached the end, she would just simply make a means to an end and turn back, clearing the pathways once more. It was her existence.

Anyone else would seek refuge in a safe heaven. Rivendell had been suggested to her many a time before from passersby; she contemplated, but once at the beginning of the forest, she would turn to the end again. But then, Ainsel was no normal creature…

"So if you don't mind us asking Ainsel, are you half Dwarf?!" Bombur asked bashfully.

"No my friends, I am no Dwarf." She replied.

"'Tis a shame, you would make a funny looking dwarf though!" Ori joked.

Ainsel made a small hum of laughter.

"Maybe she's a Hobbit!" Dwalin cheered. But there was no cheer on Ainsel's face, no mark of laughter, no grace of humble humour. She fell silent; Thorin looked upon her face, and threw an expression at Dwalin and others in his line of vision to be weary. It hit her small nerves.

"No. I am no Hobbit" trying to be chipper, with a monotone voice she stared blankly for seconds, until Oin's horse got snagged under a tree trunk, it's hooves clipped against the weight of the heavy timber, the animals blind panic sent him bolting upright and the poor dwarf to the ground, it dragged him for many a tree length before stopping sharply with Oin's face planted firmly in the mud. Everyone laughed, Ainsel squealed with laughter at such a hilarious sight.

Laughing and joking along the way indeed! The group approached a clearing that would be of suitable rest for the horses for an hour or two as they sat to eat their lunch. A late start out into the wilderness meant a late sleep and lack of for them all. Bombur cooked up a fabulous meal, but only a fraction of it had been dished out to the group, the rest went into his already full belly, and what a generous amount of food he did prepare in the first place! The afternoon was drawing a close and clearing its path for a clear, evening sky.

"Ainsel?" a small voice asked from behind her. She turned her head to see a certain Hobbit, a Mug of ale within his grasp and a smoking pipe within the other.

"Yes?" She answered. Not wanting to offer any emotion to the creature. He perched himself down next to her, shuffling about with his legs crossed.

"I don't mean to offend you, but you haven't told us what other race you belong to. Just a harmless question!" Bilbo propped up his spare hand in defence, while the pipe rested now in his mouth, hoping not to get a hurl of insult off this ill mannered girl, but his curiosity made him the inquisitive Cat, inviting something unwelcome. She decided to entertain the notion, seeing his aura slightly intoxicated with Dwarvish brew of ale. "I'm an Orc." Bilbo gasped and grabbed for his beacon of indication, his dagger.

"It's..." he looked over it for a long time. "It's not glowing..." he looked at her with large, wide eyes.

"What would it matter if it was? Does my race really matter to you?" She asked calmly, picking at some meat with her teeth and staring absently into the fire that glistened embers into the afternoon light.

"No." He stated. "Not at all, I wouldn't care if you were an Orc, you're a very..." this grabbed her attention as he hesitated. A lump in the poor Hobbits throat formed. "Nice Orc..." It seemed more of a question that a statement, and the first part was a hesitant search for a non offensive word. But it did sound ridiculous!

"I'm not an Orc, you halfwit. Although I might as well be..." Ainsel's voice grew low. Why was she humouring this Hobbit? She feared these creatures. He seemed, somewhat different from the stories she had been told. "I don't know what I am. Deformed? All I know is that I'm not welcome in my clan"

"You don't look deformed to me" he tried to sooth her sorrow slightly. "Rivendell would suit you, true that elves are tall, but your height would not matter to them at all. Elrond was kind to us all!" She felt flattered that he was trying to talk to her, she tried not to be snotty or insulted by his attempts to speak to her, but she felt uneasy.

"I don't think these woods will let me leave..." she whispered, not particularly to dear, confused Bilbo. He watched her place her head atop her knees which huddled against her. She was so... non Elf like in so many ways, just the slight essence and grace of an elf.

A small nose, rosy round cheeks and darker green eyes, white hair indeed! But her body was not the tall, sleek elf body. Well, to our friend Bilbo, she had the appearance that mainly consisted of a Hobbit. He had maybe staring a little too long, she seemed to pick up on his gaze, and the elitist attitude came back, she snorted and got to her feet.

'She's an odd one' Bilbo thought to himself, and accidentally voiced the word 'Odd' out loud... Maybe she heard, or maybe she didn't, she didn't look at him again after that.

They journeyed onwards until deeper night. No event happened, it was... peaceful and that to Ainsel was a worry. Even Gandalf had that omniscient expression of worry on his aged and knowledgeable face.

Stopping again for a few brief hours the group drank the remaining rationed ale and then put out their fire, climbed into bed and went to sleep; presumably…

Slightly drunken off fine but strong Dwarvish ale, Bilbo decided that this mystery would be solved! Feeling sneaky and indestructible, the ultimate burglar! (Having no burglary experience and running into a spot of bother trying to prove himself against stealing from very large troll in the company of two other trolls, he felt like he would redeem himself) Indeed!

He crept, as quietly as possible, trying to wake no-one. He succeeded for the most part. He didn't count on the Elvish senses Ainsel had inherited. She didn't move a muscle, relaxed her breathing and listened for where the rustling was coming from. He tried not to get too close; his breath was thick with a bitter twinge of beer. 'What a noisy bugger' Ainsel thought to herself, thinking the Hobbit was settling down near to her to go to sleep. She was wrong.

She felt her silky hair being pulled back slowly, she knew now what he was trying to do. Her arm lunged out to circulate his forearm; she pressed down on his pressure point and twisted, gaining a very noisy 'Ouch!' from the Hobbit few times over.

"What were you trying to do?" She spat in a menacing tone at Bilbo who was wriggling around and trying to push her off.

"I just… wanted to see your ears" He whispered foolishly and truthfully, now rousing several sleeping Dwarves.

"Why?" Ainsel snapped back.

"I just wanted, wanted to know if you were like me!" He barked back at her, not liking being pinned down at all as she forced a hand into his shoulder while still holding his arm, digging the index finger deeper into the pressure point of his forearm.

"I'm not like you; I'm not a worthless Hobbit. Don't even think about doing that again!" Her voice was becoming a venomous whisper, but still loud for those in close proximity.

"Don't kill each other please, I'm trying to sleep. Do it in the mornin' if you must!" complained Bofur from under his sleeping facilities.

Ainsel threw Bilbo's arm away from her with force. "If it matters to you so much…" She pulled her hair behind her ears to show them. Not what he expected… They were just… Not very Hobbit like at all in the darkness… 'Maybe in daylight' Bilbo stopped himself from thinking any further.

Ainsel stripped off her leather and fur shoes under her green silk dress. No hair… 'Maybe she shaves it' he found himself thinking dumbfounded, but it wasn't the most stupid idea he had all night…

"I'm not worthless…" he insisted, trailing off slightly with a pang of self doubt hitting his nerves. She was a cruel Elf! Bilbo loved the elves, there was something so enchanting about them, but the more he suffered exposure to Ainsel's aura the more he began to consider the idea that Elves weren't all kind. But after all, she was half something else. His slightly drunken mind began to wonder as the solitary Elf snatched up her belongings and climbed the nearest tree, grunting as she went along, tempted to kick Bilbo in the leg like a spoiled child.

Hoisting up her bare feet, not bothering to pop her shoes back on her soles stuck nicely to the trees, too nicely for comfort, but the Hobbit didn't see her do this, he probably thought under his influence that she somehow grew wings and flew… He didn't care either way as of that moment.

"Night night" he cooed to Ainsel.

She perched herself grumpily in a tree to await the morning light…


	4. The Glorious invasion of Wicked

**The Glorious invasion of Wicked**

The sun blistered through the shelter of leaves onto the earth, it was going to be a gloriously warm day, red hues danced across the sky and the yellow fluttered above, tantalising the eyes of all those who looked upon its beauty. Ainsel's eyes fluttered open. She briefly remembered the night before and looked down towards the perpetrator. He wasn't there. Her eyes darted around the scenery, but he was no-where in view. Did she upset him that much? She wanted to grin but something sparked a sense of panic, she knew how precious he was to the group of Dwarves and she didn't want to be the guilty culprit who forced him off into the night. One by one they stretched themselves awake and began searching for Bilbo, calling his name and shouting abuse at him in a friendly way. Thorin grew restless. "Where is he? I hope he hasn't run off again!"

Frantic grew their woe, they searched up and down. Ainsel wondered off to the west of the group into a clearing, stepping cautiously, bare feet catching on the brambles and decayed leaves, thorns and twigs. It was there she found a shivering, small body. Bilbo lay feverish and quivering. Ainsel looked for the firework Gandalf had given her to signal her whereabouts.

It streamed off into the sky, green and bright like a beacon of earthly fire. Soon after the Dwarves came rushing into the clearing, Thorin darted forward to prop up Bilbo's head. The Hobbit began muttering things under his breath absent of his mind and senses. 'I won't!' he cried, darting up, seemingly awake before collapsing back into a muttering state of slumber. 'She's not one of you... Don't... kill.' These were the only legible words dribbling from his mouth, along with actual dribble. Thorin picked him up swiftly and propped him over a pony which he then tied to his horse. The pony protested at the dead weight but settled down after Ainsel soothed its nerves with a swift stroke to its nose.

"Easy" She cooed to the animal.

Riding on her own pony next to him she heard his feverish chanting which chilled her core. Who could he be talking about and what triggered such a state?

"WITCH!" Bilbo screamed once more. And then settled down again for a long period of time.  
Ainsel's sprit grew weary with every passing second. Frantically looking for the trees messages, they seemed all too quiet. Almost normal to the untrained eye.

The shrieking took them all by surprise. Ainsel saw a little blue flash from the body that lay atop of the pony next to her, protruding from the sheath, Bilbo's sword was glowing the warm ocean colour, an indication of intrusion. Crows began to caw in the trees above, screaming and almost... calling.  
The group jumped from their horses and ponies to the ground, unsheathing axes, bows, swords and shields. Forming a tight formation and looking around. Nothing appeared. What was this trickery?  
Gandalf's face held a look of sheer horror at the sight before him, and yet, to everyone else, they saw nothing.

"Almasenor!"

Shivers went through her spine, her body grew cold, and Ainsel gave out a cry of terror. All the hairs on her body stood on end. That name shook the foundations of her inner most worry.

"NO!" She sobbed.

The dwarves were confused.

"What baggage have you brought upon us, elf?!" Throrin barked at her, sensing something the others could not.

"You did this, you heathen!" Gandalf stated, his voice shaking with power, radiated out into the woods and echoing off the trees. They could not hear the replies.

"You will not harm anyone!" His staff struck the ground and out flew a white aura surrounding the group. "Stay together, and you will see the dusk!" He commanded to the group, and they obeyed. Turning to Ainsel, his face stern and unwelcoming at first, Gandalf looked upon Ainsel's horror and his face softened. "This name. You know its power, why, I cannot say for certain, but your mother once spoke of this evil, did she not?" Ainsel's vacant stare become interrupted and she nodded.

"Of my childhood she spoke of an evil which had consumed my father. She spoke the name that he had muttered many of nights in cold sweat and of his silent screams, a conjurer who lived in a dark tavern on the western boarders of our homeland"

"As long as you stay in this circle, I promise you Ainsel you will be safe from this wickedness" Gandalf put a hand atop of her shoulder. It calmed her a little. She backed up next to Bilbo's pony, hugging the animal's neck as it fidgeted and grunted.

Eerie whispers filled the air, and the crows took flight from their trees, trying in vain to attack the group. Bouncing off invisible protective magic, they swooped around, diving in again to the same end. The group flinching with every burst of attack from the crows. Then they heard it...

Petrified, Ainsel stood as still as a statue, eyes wide. It was a laugh of sheer bitterness, surrounding the group, burning their ears as it radiated a ringing sound that no-one had ever heard before.  
A hooded figure raided the skies on a giant crow, encircled by smaller crows, Orcs began drumming and shrieking, still, in the distance, coming closer and closer. The Dwarves were on edge. Bilbo roused from his slumber, a head still pounding, and now dazed with confusion. He looked at Ainsels' soft, petrified face.

"Ainsel?" He asked her, trying to command her attention, wriggling off his horse and onto the ground.  
"Ainsel, what's the matter?" Her gaze didn't move. He grabbed her shoulders with considerable force. Still, nothing. She just pointed, her eyes fixed on the hooded figure in the skies. Bilbo cast his glance towards it, and gasped. It was something that had gone bump in the night, which he followed. The voiced filled his head once more.

"NO!" He barked at it. The others cast a glance back at him.

"Glad you could join us laddie!" Offered Dwalin, and his gripped harder on the handle of his axe, ready and excited for battle.

"Here they come!" Thorin shouted. "Ready yourself my friends."

"They have brought a troll!" Gloin protested. "They have a troll!" he hollered once more.

"Stay within the circle!" Gandalf scolded them all as they edged towards the glowing transparent walls of its magic. Almost one hundred Orcs rushed into the clearing. An onslaught flanked by a considerably large and very ugly troll.

Their white shield faltered. Dark magic forced it to receded, and Gandalf couldn't recover the break. It shattered, and the group were exposed to the battle.  
Thorin charged, his sword held high, carving downwards mercilessly on the Orcs, as he headed towards the largest foe, trying to sooth his ego he slashed at its knees, but the Troll only grew angrier.

"I need your Axe Dwalin!" he cried to his comrade. Dwalin thundered his way through the Orcs over to help his friend take down the mighty beast.

"Ainsel you have to snap out of it! You have to move!" Bilbo was screaming at her absent mind. She heeded no words he spoke. Only staring evermore into the red eyes of that shadowing evil... Words filling her mind, taking her hostage in a prison of her own dark thoughts. It was communicating to her in the most... unpleasant manor.

Bilbo took up arms against the Orcs as he tried to protect his companions; they were powerful strikes against the unskilled Hobbit, the blows against his sword were mighty, but he prevailed, trying to protect Ainsel and some of the Dwarves caught up with their struggles, unable to see through the back of their skull.

"Stop this insanity and help me Ainsel!" He pleaded, an Orc bearing down its hammer on his blade, sparks flying into his eyes. Kili struck the Orc from afar with an arrow from his bow, gave a nod to Bilbo and continued on with his picking off of dangerous foes.

Something snapped and took a hold of her sanity. Bilbo faced her once more, a sigh of relief to see her out of her fixation on the skies. She was now fixated on him. He grew uncomfortable at her intensive stare. His body grew lax, one hand still in the air holding his weapon, his reflexes kicked in when he saw an Orc advance on her back. He lunged forward and stuck the sword through an opening just shy of Ainsel's waist and stabbed the fiend in the stomach. It let out a shriek and fell.

Ainsel's hand softly moved up encircling his grip on the weapon near her side. He stuttered slightly as her fingers laced with his. "Ai... Ainsel?" her face moved dangerously close, her free hand made for his neck, gently resting it in the dip between his throat and shoulder. He didn't realise in all the chaos ensuing behind him that she had wormed the sword out of his loose grip... He just... stared at her, dumbfounded and slightly woozy. 'What is she doing?' he asked himself. Drawing closer to her... he couldn't stop it, he couldn't help it. It happened like a strong magical reaction. A firework in his stomach...

"Bilbo! Look out!" Kili shouted, and broke his attention. He looked at Kili, then back at Ainsel... and down. Sting was facing his chest. Ready for the lunge... the kill. A white hot flash smacked her back and onto the ground, resulting in her letting go of Bilbo's weapon. He swiftly retrieved it. Ainsel was knocked unconscious by Gandalf's staff, releasing her from the hold of evil. There was a scream overhead as Almasenor retreated, letting her minions on the ground carry on with the battle, with lesser the chance of victory as their numbers had been drastically reduced.

The Troll was still roaming vexedly, smashing everything that got in its way. The Dwarves had suffered heavy blows to the chest from its tantrum. It paddled around in the tiny bodies that littered the ground, stumbling and crushing bones as it went along. Fixed on something new that lay on the ground. A bright white light to the idiocy of a troll, it was Ainsel's hair that it was attracted to, Almasenor had sent the troll into a red haze after the little creature. He ran for her. The Dwarves had caught onto its war path and shouted, tearing its thick flesh as it ran for her unconscious body. Bilbo peered up at what was making the ground quake, and picked Ainsel up as best he could putting her arm loosely around his shoulder, beginning to run and into to a dead end with her frail body struggling as she roused slightly and into full consciousness. She grabbed for her sword, unsheathing it and letting go of Bilbo completely. She spun on her heel to face the Troll. Not a chance in all heavens did she have against it, but she had a guilty feeling she was the reason for this blood bath... Leaping between its legs, she slashed at its knees, stabbing into the folds of its fat legs. The steel on her sword buckled slightly against the Troll's disgustingly heavy skin.

It howled, blood curdling into the opening, and swiped at her, knocking her into a tree. A loud sound of crunching dwindled against the shrieking of murdered Orcs and one enraged, large foe.  
Bilbo darted in front of her broken body, the Trolls face lowered down to their lowly height. A mistake the stupid creature should not have made... Bilbo plucked at the Troll's eye, blood exuded from the wound, and in another swift movement, the mighty but small Halfling struck Sting into its throat. The Troll gasped for air, Dwarves now mounting its back and slashing at all angles to bring it down.

Ainsel watched from below staring at his back, the Hobbit exhaling heavily, both hands clutching his sword ad he stood, to her, proud and tall, a battle stance that made him fierce. She smiled slightly, before falling unconscious.


	5. Drowning in Darkness

**Drowning in Darkness**

"You, child of abomination will not see the end of your precious forest; I will see to it that your company is the undoing of you!" Those sickening words rang through in her head, over and over again, calling her profanities of all kinds. Who did it belong to? Instinct only told her what she didn't want to know. Almasenor… "There are no happy endings for a hobbit!"

Did she mean Bilbo?

Did she intend to kill him?

She was swimming in darkness, a deep pool of black, endless space, frightening and relentless. Almasenor's words boomed through the blackness and into Ainsel's soul.

"Keep her steady Laddy! She's in a terrible state, we don't want her choking on anything unpleasant in her sleep!" Balin took a hold of Ainsel's arms whilst Bilbo grabbed her feet, trying to steady her; she was thrashing violently on the floor, unconscious and screaming.

"This is useless! Try talking to her!" Fili shouted.

"Ainsel…. Ainsel can you hear me, it's Kili." Fili's brother noted his suggestion and took action immediately. She continued. He tried his boyish charm by stroking her hair and cooing lightly to her.

"Shh, it's going to be okay..." She began thrashing more violently now. Bilbo and Balin let go of her limbs.

"What a charmer you are…" Fili threw at his brother sarcastically. "look at her, she's worse than ever now!"

"Shut up" Kili grunted. "Bilbo you give it a try" Kili wiggled his eyebrows at the Hobbit, but he didn't pick up on that reference…

"Me? Why?! She hates me!" Poor Bilbo protested defenselessly, slightly scared that she would wake up and rip his nose off… That's when she screamed his name…

Bilbo's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as he attempted to get close to her flailing body, his hands wrapped around her left wrist. "This is useless" he whimpered, "She doesn't listen to me, she would rather imagine me impaled on a bloody spike!" His eyes looked pleadingly at the others who were fixed with expressions ranging from smug to worry as the Dwarves crowded around slowly, staring at her reaction.

"Dear Bilbo, you'll never understand women because you're scared of them." Even Gandalf was joining in on the taunting. "She doesn't hate you, she just thinks she does" And as always, his wise words, made no sense. "Words are powerful Bilbo, and voices need to be heard in the darkness. Even if it is hatred she feels, then she feels the strongest towards you. A familiarity is what she needs to calm her from Almasenor's grip of terror"

"She does hate me, you've seen the way she ignores me, and the way she addresses me" He didn't notice, but her limbs were slowly relaxing to the sound of his voice. Her face less contorted in agony.

"But I guess you're right, I don't understand why hatred would rouse her."

"Well yes my friend, but it's you she's calling for… His face nodded to her body, now calming, and her breathing more regulated. Bilbo the old wizard's gaze.

"Oh…" His voice stopped and she began shaking again. "Ainsel?" He asked. There was no reply; his she stopped her shaking. "Ainsel, can you hear me?" He put his small hands on her round face, soothing her cheek with his thumb. She began to murmer. "Shhhh" he responded every time she exerted noise. "Just please don't kill me when you wake up…" he could have sworn there was a small but wry smile on her face.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, the Dwarves carried on with their merry songs, they even made one up about Ainsel waking up and hunting Bilbo, much to his bemusement.

She didn't wake for a long time. Her Pony carried her safely, Thandriel was very loyal and safeguarded her from harm, if he heard a noise beyond the footsteps and hums of laughter he would stop with the other Ponies, and raise his head, turn his back to a tree, so she was protected from the back, the front and both sides by fellow Ponies. Everyone admired this little Ponies protection of its dearest friend.

"I wonder why she stays in the woods…" Ori struck up the conversation.

"Who cares why she stays? I care more about getting her out of 'ere!" Bofur joined in.

"I think we can all agree on that Laddie!" Balin nodded. "Maybe when a bunch of us return to take Bilbo safely back to the shire we can drop her off at Rivendell"

"Or off at the shire with Bilbo" Bofur jested.

"Well there's plenty of room…" Gloin laughed.

"I don't even think he's paying attention anymore…" Bofur motioned his head to suggest the others look at Bilbo. And sure enough, he wasn't listening, his attention was consumed entirely.

"Is he going to be distracted by her face this entire journey?" Ori giggled.

Finally, Ainsel's eyelids began to open. Her eye sockets were surrounded with a purple mist, her skin even whiter than before, her emerald coloured dress sticking to her body. She looked like death itself.

"Hnnnngg" she groaned into the evening air.

Her head screamed in protest to the light, pounding and sore was the spot on the back of her head where Gandalf's staff struck.

"Ainsel!" Bilbo's voice was perhaps a little too loud, she winced, her brows furrowed into a crease. "Sorry" he whispered softly. With her eyes now fully open she began to take in the scene around her, drawing back from cradling her Ponies neck. She patted Thandriel lightly.

"Thank you" she whispered to her friend, the Pony's ears flopped wistfully and he nodded his long, lean neck as acknowledgement. Peering out the corner of her eye she watched the Hobbit on his Pony Myrtle, riding next to her.

"Why are you watching me?" She asked, a little more harshly than initially intended.

"Just checking to see if you're okay. You don't look it." He bravely added that last part, deciding on if she would take it as a feminine insult.

"Hmm. Thank you." Ainsel replied. Bilbo couldn't help but beam at her, happy to receive a courteous reply. "For saving my life..." she added. His beaming smile was shot down, as he realised her tone wasn't so sincere. More like she owed him a debt she didn't want.

"It wasn't... It's fine. Don't worry about it; you don't owe me anything if that's why you're so solemn." She went from frowning to mimicking the expression of a Deer in the path of a troll, innocent and wide eyed, too startled to move.

"I... I sincerely meant thank you." She almost spat it out at him. "You saved my life, after everything I've said to you, after how I treated you. Do you realise how conflicted I am? I've spent my life hating Hobbits, thinking they were bad, and now you risked your life to save mine after I was cruel? How do you think that makes me feel about myself, and about you? I owe you more than you will ever realise, despite how much I took my life for granted!" Tears began to form in her eyes, the whites of her eyeballs now turning a pale pink. "I should hate your kind, I have every right to, and a Hobbit killed my mother in cold blood and then chased after me!"

Everyone gasped, shocked at what they heard. A Peaceful Halfling had murdered an Elf and chased a young child through the woods? That didn't sound right... At least not to their Logic. Nobody questioned it though. She started to sob. Like the innocent child that fled the woods that day, she cried, hugging tightly to her Ponies neck.

"Ainsel, I'm sorry." His words always seemed to tear her emotions, it was like walking on eggshells, her hardened demeanor now shattered, revealing a scared Half Elf clutching to the only family she had left. He lead across from his Pony who had now come to a halt, he placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered again, "I'm sorry"

"What for? You didn't kill her. I'm just selfish, selfish, cruel and weak."

"You're not weak Lass, not at all! Why, you put young Fili here to shame wielding a sword!" Gloin offered her some words of comfort. They registered a little.

"Yes, and it's nice to see you smile!" Kili shouted from the back of the group. Ainsel giggled a little, still sobbing.

"I'm not bad with a blade!" Fili protested.

"Never said you were, you dimwit, I just said she was better!" Gloin threw an apple at Fili's head and it struck with immaculate precision on his temple, which earned him a grunt of disapproval.

"Ere, we will take you beyond the borders of these fowl woods, you can escape the treachery of the trees and finally be safe Ainsel. We will do that for you, you're keen senses have been most helpful to us." Thorin had pulled up beside Ainsel's pony and offered very powerful words to stop her crying. To be free of these woods? It sounded pleasing... but she had never found answers, never had closure or a reason to leave this place. Could she just... escape after such a long time? "I understand it might be strange for you at first, but if we can tempt Bilbo away from the comfort of his armchair and his comforts, then I'm sure the lure of safety will temp you too. Promise me, when we reach the end of these woods that fowl Witch will not deceive you again? I do not care for her reason in hunting for you, but if we catch her, we will kill her, rest assured."

Thorin. The coldest Dwarf in the bunch was offering her such comfort and such kind words, Ainsel could no longer refuse their hospitality, nor could she refuse that feeling of safety. She nodded.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I accept your gracious offer. Thank you!" She cried. But not with tears; with joy.

"My Dear Ainsel, the answers you seek are within these woods, and I believe you will find them in time. You do not need a group of Dwarves telling you that you will be safer in a town of people to protect you, which you know! Nor do you need to surround yourself with these woods to find such answers, just surround yourself with the right people and it will come to you..." A benevolent smile crossed his lips and his eyes creased, offering a wonderfully kind expression.

Ainsel was soothed back into calmness. Smiling at her companions, she thanked each one individually. They carried on their journey that evening in higher spirits; singing, dancing around the campfire, and drinking the ale before finding fruits to make wine from.

Through a mystic mirror she stared at them all, their spirits not broken, Ainsel's body not bruised, beaten and lying cold on the earth as she had intended. All of them had now provoked her wrath, but killing the Half elf would be enough to wound them. It was like the tale of sad little Fosco all over again. She threw the mirror on the floor and threw her head back, screeching in anger into the night.  
"I will see her wings burn!" Almasenor began to laugh sadistically, macabre flashes of power oozing from her withering body as she assumed the image of Enwe; Ainsel's mother…


	6. Earth on Fire

The ashes still clung to the sparks of life, embers still glimmering as the cinders began to die. Dawn had approached in rapid form, and the world had begun to extinguish the darkness. The group still trapped in their slumber once more, believing the worst of the woods to be behind them, the end ever approaches rapidly.

Trapped in her own insanity, Ainsel's sleep offered no refuge. She dreamt vividly of Almasenor attacking a small town that she had began to inhabit, the residents taking up arms against the Half elf, instead of the Witch to rid their own of evil, claiming she had burdened them with this death, that Ainsel was no longer welcome and she should flee back into her woods. The world transformed in her dream, a burning forest, the trees ablaze with orange glow, Ainsel began calling out a name, but no sound would escape her lips. It was caught in her throat like she had lost her voice. She tried to scream, but to no avail. She tried to move her limbs, but the trees had her pinned to the fiery earth. She was consumed by the flames.

She awoke, screaming in terror, sweat dripping profusely from her almost translucent flesh.  
No-one had awoken from their Dragon infested nightmares, yet. Or so she thought...

"She plagues your mind too?" Bilbo sat up from his sleeping bag propping himself on his elbows. This snapped Ainsel's attention back to the world beyond the dead and dreaming. "The first time I saw her..." he stared into the fire, the orange embers illuminating his beautifully deep blue eyes.

She watched him, curiously. "Almasenor was scratching your name in blood, whispering terrible things, about you, about me, what she was going to do to you. It was terrifying" His face grew dark, the shadows playing tricks against his features. Ainsel signaled for him to continue, he looked as though he wasn't finished recalling the horror.

"Next she tortured me in my dreams, crows were screaming, and she was cutting into my flesh, telling me I should resent the monstrosity, resent why I was entrapped there with her burrowing a blade into my flesh..."

"And did you?" Ainsel queried.

"Did I what?" He tilted his head. His hair was dancing in a shade of golden orange now, radiant, reflecting the dawns light.

"Resent the monstrosity, resent me?" It was a flat statement.

"Of course not! Why would I resent you? Why would she mean you? Granted you are a little rude, with I suppose good right to be... but you are no monster Ainsel!"

"But... I know she means me. I'm not an Elf, I'm not anything. I'm a runt. She is after me Bilbo..."  
It sounded so beautiful, the way she said his name through normal conversation, not waking up, screaming his name. He crawled from his sleeping bag to sit closer to the fire. Ainsel began t shiver and he patted the warm earth beside him. She plodded over and dropped not so graciously, in a huff to the ground.

"I think... I think she made me watch your dreams somehow. I kept seeing you being poked with hot iron rods, crows clawing, pecking, ripping at your flesh, and then... then you disappeared into thin air! I couldn't find you and then she rounded on me!"

"I saw that too!" He shouted, earning exasperated, sleepy grunts from the sleeping Dwarves who resumed their snoring after a few seconds of silence. "Sorry" he whispered to no one in particular and carried on in a hushed tone. "When I... vanished, I broke free of the trees vines and roots, and she... she came after you with her staff, it was covered in blood, she was howling something at you... That you will pay for your father's insolence?" Ainsel froze. He saw it? He saw what that evil Witch had done, what Ainsel heard escape her mouth.

"Ainsel?" The words lingered, she stared off into vacant sunrise, sick and psychologically wounded.

"Do you... do you know who your father was?" His hand rested on her arm, trying to comfort her and bring her back from the horizon. She purchased her sanity in the present once more.

"He..." the tears started... "He was a... Hobbit" the water leaked from her eyes like an uncontrollable tap

"How long have you known?" she wailed quietly.

"It woke me up, actually, so about... an hour. Don't worry, I won't tell the others. I know you resent me for what I am. I'm sorry Ainsel. Really, I am"

"I don' resent you... I did. But I can't, not now. You're too good natured to be the cruel, evil creature I painted you all... to be."

"Ainsel..." his hand slowly and bravely moved down her arm, tickling the soft skin, leaving Goosebumps across her flesh as his fingers began to encircle hers. He was locked in the moment, torn by her aching expression. She was so confused, so fragile and so fierce.

He gulped. Not sure how to read her. Would she punch him? Would she fight him? Would she... embrace him? He had to know either way, he started slowly to gravitate towards her... was she moving in? His heart was in his head, he could feel every pulse his blood made, making him feel dizzy, giddy, sick... He picked up his free hand... this was it, his days of admiring her, would he have her?

She looked confused... What was he doing? Was this another form of comfort? Ainsel had never seen this sort of contact between people. But somehow instinct told her it wasn't what friends did, what people of a more intimate nature did. What was happening? Her head was screaming in protest, but her head, it was moving on its own, and everything she did to pull herself back, it didn't work? Was Bilbo a wizard of sorts? Was he putting a spell on her? Her eyes begged for an answer...

A crash made them both jump, Bilbo especially. He seemed to act in a daze, staring around absent of his mind, of... everything.

A can had been kicked over by Bombur, and he now began to rise from his sleeping bag, shouting curses, waking a few dwarfs next to him. He began to kick them and saying a simple word... "Breakfast" he was such a simple, yet humorous creature.

Bilbo scampered to his feet, not looking at Ainsel as he left to exit the clearing space and seek refuge in a solitary patch of earth, crowded by large trees. It was reminiscent of his nightmares. What was he doing?

His chest made a horrible throb. For someone who had spent his life alone, was the appeal to him that he had found a lone flower in all this chaos, someone to share his loneliness?

All the conflict swimming around in his consciousness began to wear him out and break him down! He collapsed on the floor, his hand clutching the hard earth, staring vacantly at the state of a very beautiful woman who resembled his beautiful companion, was this a trick? An illusion?

Her statue lay facing up towards the heavens, her face solemn and peaceful, he didn't notice the rest of her, just the face, dreaming under the trees, his eyes trailed over the statue now, a child of sorts lay beside her, it was only on closer inspection he noticed the lines in the handsome fellows face that suggested he was older, much older than a child.

Bilbo circled the statue, inspecting it, he gasped when he realised who these sleeping stone figures were... His hands begun to shake... What should he do? This was Ainsel's answer, here in this deep and abandoned part of the woods, here lay the answer in front of his eyes, not for his discovery.

He calmly composed himself and made his way back to camp. Ainsel's face was happy, smiling, joining in with conversation betwixt Bombur and Kili around a newly stoked fire.

"Ainsel?" He asked her attention and she granted it, her face showing new light, new personality he hadn't seen before.

"I... I want to talk to you in private" His eyes were now darting everywhere, he couldn't keep his gaze fixed on her anymore. It hurt.

"Oh... okay!" she sprung to her feet hastily, brushing off the pine needles sticking into her dress and the dried mud.

He needed to do something to sooth her, so he took her hand gently and guided her towards the site of the statues. The Dwarves gave him a quizzical look and Kili began to make inappropriate comments to which several Dwarves cheered... Ainsel threw them a filthy look over her shoulder and threw them an Elvish insulting hand gesture and they all just laughed. All but Thorin of course.

Gandalf gave them a courteous smile, and continued blowing smoke rings as thought he knew nothing at all, of course he did...

"Ainsel, I want you to know I just found this by mistake, but please, know that I'm sorry..."

"Sorry for what?" She laughed at his serious expression, but soon her face was void of everything, she followed his gaze...

Her body went numb. Everything, was numb. Her mind, her senses. Everything. Numb...

The initial shock took over, followed by horror, followed by grief and then harrowing and haunting.

There lay the statue of her parents. The Witch was right. Their bodies still haunted these woods in a stone tomb encircling their body, taking their form. Sure enough a Halfling lay across Enwe, his head on her chest, their hands entwined. Ainsel then became very conscious of where her hand was, still encircled in Bilbo's. She shook it free, she didn't stop to look at the pang of pain, eminent on his face.

She collapsed on her knees next to the statue. Crying.

All this time they had been here and she had never seen their bodies she assumed they had been swallowed by the earth... But here they were, painfully life like.

"My dear. Please don't weep..." The voice was very mature, deep and also feminine. Ainsel lifted her head. A bright white aura surrounded the clearing, a beautiful figure emanating the light.

"Mother?!" Ainsel got to her feet, running for the light, only to fall through it and slam into the cold earth.

"I'm sorry my little gemstone, I wish with all my heart that I could hold you. I have waited here, in my stone prison for your arrival. I prayed everyday that you were safe, that you were alive..." Her voice had long since faded from Ainsel's mind, but here it was, beautiful, as beautiful as the Elf that owned it.

"Mother, why did you not find me?" Ainsel began sobbing, staring at the light of her dead mother above her, tall and radiant, much unlike herself...

"Darling, I cannot leave this circle. I knew one day you would find me. You are still as beautiful as you ever were, and I'm certain you always will be. I am just sorry I have not been around to watch you claim a life of your own..." She looked towards Bilbo, he just stood there, stunned and shocked, far too much so to register what Enwe had said to him. All his baffled little brain could register was to speak... But what should he say?

"Your daughter is an admirable warrior and a beautiful woman" he bowed to her. Feeling slightly foolish, but her presence demanded courtesy.

"A warrior?" She questioned, a wry smile gracing her features. "I am very proud of the woman you have become Ainsel. I love you with all my heart." This made Ainsel choke a sob of regret.

"I love you too. Please, stay with me!" She begged through clouded vision, blocked by a waterfall of hurt, spilling freely onto the earth.

"I cannot... As much as I wish I could, with everything I have. But we will meet again Ainsel my darling, we will meet over the sea and to the world beyond"

"Will I mother? I thought only elves go there?!" She gasped.

"Of course, you are a proud young elf, no matter what our selfish clansmen say, to be half elf is better to be no elf at all, and to be a noble and loyal Hobbit is honourable. My dear, do not seek woe in all that you are. For I do not, and neither does your father. He loved me, and I believe I did he..." Her voice trailed off She sounded sure

"But he poisoned you!" She spat.

"I like to think of it an encouragement dear, I am displeased that I met my end so soon but we were both poisoned by ill magic, but now I can pass on with a sigh of relief. I will never meet your father again, I believe he haunts these woods somewhere, but please promise me you will not go searching for him! My heart only hopes and it is heavy with burden. I need you safe darling, and I'm sure this fine young gentleman does too!" She pointed to Bilbo, who's face flushed the same colour as the red berry he was rolling back and forth between his fingers, idly, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Mother, there is so much I want to say to you!" Ainsel protested. Enwe held up her hand firmly.

"Leave the mystery until we meet again, my little gemstone." She leaned down, and kissed Ainsel on the forehead. Looking into her soft, crying eyes, Enwe began to sing her an old Elvish lullaby as she faded into the new days light, bursting through the trees, leaving Ainsel to weep uncontrollably on the soft brown earth.

Bilbo rushed over to her, crouching down next to her and cradling an arm around her, rocking her backwards and forwards, soothing her with gentle shushes...

She lunged at him, gripping his shirt tightly with her hands, pushing him back slightly and then pulling him into her... Her lips crashed on his, begging for him to respond, and he did, hungrily his hands moved up to the back of Ainsel's head, cradling her as he kissed her, one hand giving him balance on the floor as his body knelt on the earth. Her hands began to wind up naturally, draping round his neck as she pulled him down even more, their lips brushing hungrily against one another, until they pulled away for air. Ainsel's breath was hot and heavy, here eyelids lolling shut in a daze.

"I... I'm sorry" She whispered and she kept a strong grip around his neck, but he made no protest to move, his head rested on hers.

"Don't be" His body began to vibrate with laughter. "I wasn't exactly complaining." Her smile set his pulse off again. He leaned in and planted a soft trail of kisses from her mouth to her cheek. "What brought this on, if you don't mind me asking?" it was the same sensation as feeling drunk...

"It felt right." She said flatly.

He drew back from her a little, looking at her, staring at her eyes, her nose, her lips... He nodded in agreement. "Well this certainly changes things... but it's a start" he mused.


End file.
